


Beautiful Hockey.

by AaliyahManira



Series: Love Thy Goalie [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Goalies, Hockey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 22:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13890306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AaliyahManira/pseuds/AaliyahManira
Summary: Beautiful hockey is... well, beautiful, and also hot.





	Beautiful Hockey.

Sergei liked thunderstorms best out of all the weather he experienced in Columbus. He was used to cold, used to snow. But thunderstorms on warm days, where lightning flashed through the sky and the rain came down without mercy… Those were his favourite.

That’s what the weather was doing the first time he woke up in bed next to Nick, naked and wrapped tight in his Captain’s strong arms. That’s also what the weather was doing when the Capitals came back to Nationwide Arena again. Sergei didn’t see much of them until on-ice warm ups started and by then, even the loudest peels of thunder were washed out by the sound of the 5th line.

“Bobrovsky!” Braden Holtby was skating across the ice toward him when he looked up, his mask pushed up to rest on top of his head. He looked happy to see him, like he was glad Bob was starting instead of Korpi. Bob was happy he was starting too, but he wasn’t sure why Braden would care. He stopped stretching and got up off of the ice to greet the incoming goalie.

“Holtby.” Sergei Bobrovsky almost never skated with anyone during warm ups. He moved around the ice alone, blocked shots, stretched, and did other Bob things, but he never skated with anyone else. Half of his team looked twice as he skated the length of the red line with Braden Holtby.

“Your Ovi doesn’t like this,” Bobrovsky gestured between them vaguely and nodded in the direction of Alex Ovechkin, who’d sent a puck into the back of the net and stopped to watch them with narrowed eyes.

“Neither does your Nick,” Holtby said with a smile, tipping his head toward the Blue Jacket’s Captain, giving distracted critique to a defensemen and watching them with skeptical eyes. Sergei laughed and shrugged.

“Last time you talk to me, he got teased for week.” Braden arched an eyebrow in confusion and Sergei shrugged, touching his neck with a gloved hand. It took him a second to come up with the English word. “Hickies.” Braden laughed, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Maybe it’s smart of him to be afraid,” Holtby slid to a stop and turned to lean against the boards, looking comfortable and relaxed.

“Maybe. If plays like in practice, I might not walk straight tomorrow.” Braden smiled and tossed his head back in laughter.

“I can’t believe you said that out loud.” Sergei shrugged and glanced at the clock, ticking away the remaining minutes of warm up time.

“Beautiful hockey is… you know. I have to get ready. Talk later, yes?” Braden nodded and flashed a final smile before they both pulled their masks down and skated back to their nets.

 

“I think you do this to make Ovi squirm.” Sergei said as Braden breezed up to him. The play was under review, so they had time to kill before they had to do anything. It was becoming a habit for them to spend that time together at the red line.

“I might. He needs to squirm a little. His head gets big when he gets too comfortable.” Sergei let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Ovechkin head always big. Big man, big scores, big ego.” Braden smiled and the video review was completed. They said their goodbye’s as the referee skated out to deliver the call. Nick skated up to him as he made his way back to his crease.

“Did he say anything interesting this time?” Sergei licked his lips and pulled his mask down.

“I tell him that if you play like you play in practice, I be too sore to walk tomorrow,” Foligno’s blades bit into the ice and brought him to such an abrupt stop that Bobrovsky thought he might fall forward. The look on his face sent a spike of heat down Sergei’s spine and made him thankful he’d already pulled his mask down. The desire in his Captain’s eyes was almost too much.

Nick played the game exactly the way he’d played in practice and every brilliant play made Sergei want him more.

“BOBROVSKY!” Sergei let Nick’s arms wrap around him and hugged his Captain hard as the crowd cheered around them. When Nick pulled back and put his forehead against Bobrovsky’s mask, the goal tender forgot to breathe. He raised his voice so that Sergei could hear him over the crowd. The words sent a chill down Sergei’s spine and brought a brilliant kiss of scarlet to his face. As he skated off, he looked up at Braden, who made a discrete but obscene gesture with the hand his blocker would have been on. Sergei blushed and made a show of checking Nicky out. Braden was laughing as he skated off the ice.

 

Nicky made Sergei drive them back to his house and Sergei was grateful to have something to keep his mind off of the fire burning low in his belly. He was pretty sure Nicky was too keyed up not to kill them both. They pulled into Nicky’s driveway and he was out of the car before Sergei had even managed to shut off the engine. He dragged his goal tender out of the drivers’ seat and slammed him against the door. The kiss stole every molecule of oxygen from Sergei’s lungs.

“Nicky…” Sergei brought his hands up and twisted his arms around his Captain’s neck, grateful for the support of the car at his back.

“Inside, now.” Nick ground out, blue eyes dark with desire. His voice was lower than Sergei had ever heard it and it sent goose bumps down his back.

“Yes sir.” Nick growled. And followed him into the house. Sergei was on his back on the bed before he knew what hit him.

“Say it again,” Nicky bit down on his shoulder and slipped his hands under his shirt to rest on the fever-hot skin of his stomach. Bobrovsky let out a soft groan and tried to remember what he was supposed to say. Nicky pushed his hips down, grinding his hard length against Sergei’s thigh.

“Yes, sir.” Sergei said it once in Russian and then again in English, exhaling Nick’s name when he slid down to pull his pants off. His cock sprung free and he hissed as the cold air brushed his sensitive skin. Nick looked up at him with a cocky smile on his face and trailed his fingers up the inside of Sergei’s thigh.

“Do you want to be able to walk tomorrow?” Nick asked, stripping out of his clothes and sliding up the length of Sergei’s body. The goal tender closed his eyes and moaned as his cock grazed Nick’s stomach.

“Hell no.”


End file.
